Save Me the Waltz
by RoxannaNova
Summary: Hungary's getting married! A certain Prussian is feeling nostaligic, but he manages to but a positive spin on it. Good Lord I am crap at summaries. :) Anyway, hope you like! Rate T just to be safe.


**Save Me the Waltz**

Hungary, circa 1600s

"Elizaveta? Are you there?" "Gilbert?"

Sixteen- year- old Hungary looked up from her array of dresses to look out her window. "Gilbert?" He popped out of one of the bushes directly in front of her and gave her a devilish smirk. "How's life as a girl treating you?" He asked with laughter in his voice. She shrieked and covered herself with a nearby gown. "Prussia! I'm in my underwear!" "So? Lizzie, please, we used to swim in the river naked when we were kids!" She scowled and edged towards her frying pan. "We're adults now, Prussia! Now turn around!" "Prude," Prussia muttered as he turned. She quickly slipped into a simple homespun gown. "And to answer your question, it's ghastly, Prussia. Parties, diplomacy, and I haven't been hunting in months! Instead of feasts, I have to sit down in dresses I can barely breathe in and make some noble pretend to laugh!" "You're already talking like some noble lady," Prussia sniggered. "Shut up," Elizaveta groaned. She turned her attention back to the gowns. "Green or brown?" She murmured. Prussia took this as an invitation to turn back to face her.

Prussia stared at her, taking in her womanly figure. It seemed just yesterday that she was a boy, cursing after him with her horse and dogs. Did he miss that? He wasn't sure. "Green," he found himself saying. "It suits you." Hungary gave him a look out of her peripheral vision. "Thank you," she said cautiously. A wicked grin spread over his face. "Although not as much as a real suit." Hungary spluttered, "Women don't wear suits! Trousers, Prussia!" Gilbert snickered. They lapsed into silence again. "So, what's the occasion?" Prussia asked, just for something to say. "I'm getting tired of your chatter," she warned him. "No you aren't," he corrected her. "No?" "No. If you were, you would have used that by now."

He nodded at the frying pan that Hungary didn't realize she was clutching. She glowered at him a moment longer and then relenting. "You should know, you got an invitation. Is your memory not as 'awesome' as you claim?" She added the last part teasingly. "Of course it is awesome! I just haven't bothered to read it yet," Prussia protested defensively. He pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket as proof and opened it. He skimmed it, then looked back at her in surprise.

"Engagement party?"

Hungary nodded, suddenly intensely focused on the threads of the green dress. A light blush was forming on her cheeks. "To... Roderich?! Of all people you get engaged to Roderich?" "I love him," she defended herself. The blush was deepening. "Since when?" "It doesn't matter. Get out, I need to change." She turned her back to him, hiding her expression. "I am not technically in," he reminded her. She huffed and turned, reaching for the window to close it. Anticipating this, Prussia grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. "You love him?" He repeated. She squirmed. "Let me go, Prussia!" "Do you really love him?" His ruby red eyes seared her emerald ones. "Yes." They stared each other down stubbornly.

"Okay," he said. He gently released her wrist. "Elizaveta," he said, before she could close the window on him. "What, Gilbert?" She asked exasperatedly. "Save me a dance, will you?" She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling at his pleading- little- boy tone. "Any dance in particular?" She asked. "I've always been good at the waltz," he offered. "Save me the waltz tonight, Lizzie. I'll make it worth your while." He looked at her with such a hopeful gaze that she couldn't help but soften. "One dance," she agreed. She quickly shut the window and pulled the curtains over it before he could get her to do anything else.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Elizaveta calmed herself one last time before beginning her descent down the marble staircase to the party. Her hair was braided and gathered on her head, with little pink rosebuds adorning it. Her dress was dark emerald green, with a delicate white flower embroidery. She was a vision, naturally graceful as she made her way down. The other nations who came to her party cheered and oohed and aahed over her. At the door of the stairs was her wonderful fiancée, Roderich. He held out a hand for her to take when she reached him, and she took it. "You look beautiful," he told her. She looked down and murmured a shy thank- you. "You always look beautiful," he amended.

The orchestra started and Roderich claimed her for the first dance. The dance floor became a maze of twirling skirts and coattails as her fellow nations danced. Glasses clinked together, toasts were made, laughter was heard in every corner of the room. The sun had set long ago, and the chandeliers were lit, flames reflecting off small mirrors and bouncing the light elsewhere. Bouquets of pink and orange roses decorated the tables where some nations sat and had refreshments, giving off a pleasant scent. The skylight gave everyone a beautiful view of the stars, most of which would later be invisible as urbanization increased.

Hungary gripped Austria's shoulder as he spun her around the floor. His hand on her hip gave her a warm sense of security, and for the moment, she was totally content with her life. Maybe being a proper woman did have merits.

The song ended, blending into a new song. For the next few hours, Hungary danced, talked with nations, made a few agreements, and had sips of champagne that France saw fit to bring. As the music started up into a waltz, she felt a hand tap her shoulder. "I believe you owe me a waltz," an amused voice said behind her. "Prussia- oh my."

Prussia was wearing a spotless, wrinkle- free dark blue blue tuxedo with an iron cross pendent. For once, he had combed his hair. It made him look quite dashing. "Gilbert... You look..." "Awesome?" He suggested. She nodded. "Awesome," she confirmed. She brought her gaze back to his eyes, those red eyes that always fascinated her. His eyes bored back into her own. It made her heart skip a beat, and she suddenly found it difficult to swallow. She wanted to touch him, distract herself from those eyes. He smirked and offered his hand. "Shall we?" She took his hand, trying not to seem too eager, and smiled at him.

The hand she held extended to her left, and Prussia's free arm snaked around her to cup her shoulder blade. And with that, they danced. One, two, three. One, two, three. Turn. She got lost in the steps of the dance and in the feel of Gilbert's hand on her back. They were close together, and Elizaveta concentrated on not letting a blush rise to her cheeks.

Prussia lifted the arm he was holding her hand with. During that motion, she got the message and spun, nearly independent of him, but still holding his hand. She returned to his waiting arms. He was not expecting her back so soon, she supposed, because he took a surprised half- step back, forced back by her momentum, and his hand slipped to her lower back. Her breasts were suddenly pressed into his chest. She quickly straightened up, as did he. Warmth pooled down into her gut.

The song ended. Prussia took a step back and bowed. "It was an honor," he said, a smile playing at his lips. Before she could respond, he grabbed her elbows and pulled her towards him. She blinked and made a protesting sound that died away as she felt his lips gently pressing on her own. She inhaled, and smelled a cologne of some kind. It wasn't overpowering like most colognes, in fact she hadn't noticed before then. It smelled of musk and clean linens.

Suddenly the pressure on her lips and arms was gone, and she was gaping stupidly at empty air. Prussia had disappeared. "Elizaveta, is something wrong?" She started. "No, Roderich. I guess I got lost staring at this..." She gestured at the ballroom, where the festivities hadn't diminished whatsoever since the beginning of the party. "Do you like it?" He asked, suddenly worried. "I love it, Roderich. This is the best night of my life." With a smile, Roderich took her into his arms and they danced the night away. But no matter how many songs the orchestra played, Elizaveta could not banish the feeling of Gilbert's soft lips on her mouth. She hoped she never did.

Later that night, after the party drew to a close, she went up to her room to retire for the night. She walked to her vanity, passing her bed. A white spot on the red velvet covers caught her eye. On it was a note addressed to her.

Lizzie,

Make sure he treats you right. If he doesn't, tell me right away so my awesomeness can smash his piano into splinters. I'm pretty sure he'll treat you okay, though. He's got his pompous act to keep up.

His Royal Awesomeness.

Hungary laughed and stuck the note inside one of her books, carefully so it wouldn't fold. She slipped into her nightshirt and fell asleep with a small smile in her face.

In the morning she sat bolt upright.

"When the hell was Prussia in my room?"


End file.
